


I quite miss home

by Fluffy_Red_Panda



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Angst, Homesickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 12:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30005205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffy_Red_Panda/pseuds/Fluffy_Red_Panda
Summary: Vetheo lost once again, and the play-off seems way too far to reach them
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	I quite miss home

**Author's Note:**

> Me coping with Misfits' earlier chain loss, just after their loss to SK.  
> I wrote it while listening to "I quite miss home" by James Arthur so feel free to do the same :3
> 
> Thanks to Nina and Xan for the bêta, Soni for the support as always

_Defeat._

Once again, those six letters appear on the screen. Six letters can be so little and yet, mean so much.

It means so much for the young French midlaner. Six letters that seem to burn the screen. Burn his eyes, along with his hopes. As once again, Misfits Gaming loses a game.

It’s not much, a single game. It shouldn’t be that much. Vetheo used to think so, but he quickly realized that it was not the case, focusing on one game after another. Focusing on his own gameplay. He could have 1v9 those games. He just hadn’t been up to the task after all.

His mind is blurry. To be honest, he doesn’t really notice he’s back at the gaming house until Razork lightly pushes his shoulder.

“We’re here,” are his words.

A quick look at his peripheral vision to Hirit, who did such a good game against SK. Close face. They don’t know each other very well. How could they, when Vincent spends most of his time playing soloQ, focusing on being the best player, the best midlaner he can be? Working closely with Zaboutine to erase his mid-game mistakes, like that time when he went to split push with no vision. That time when he should’ve flashed the Ashe arrow. That time when…

Vander and Kobbe just look tired, and Vincent knows that Razork is not doing well either.

And that may be the worst. Knowing that this time more than never, victory was not far. They could taste it. But the Aatrox, the Azir came on top of that last team fight. And they lost.

Once again.

When that victory would’ve been so sweet, so crucial, to even _hope_ to go to play-offs. Now, they’re 3-8. And the dream keeps getting further and further away from them.

One step. Two steps. Three steps.

Mechanical movements seem to be the only thing that Vetheo is capable of doing right now, as he goes to his room.

Cold. Dark. Lonely.

Empty.

Clothes on a side, a computer on a desk. A picture.

Picture of his friends. Picture of his family. Back in France.

When he’s in Berlin, Germany. Everyone must be asleep by now. His brother who showed him how to play League. His parents who supported him because they believed in him.

_Was it for nothing?_

Alone. No one to really talk to right now.

Vincent lays down, staring at the ceiling. Not caring about the tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He’s alone. He doesn’t have to pretend anymore. Doesn’t have to feel like they can win. He’s not even sure he would be able to do that. Instead, he just let the thoughts run freely inside his mind.

_I'm in another city_

Berlin was so far.

_I got nobody with me_

Nobody to talk to. His team wasn’t doing better, and Jezu was actually the last person he wanted to talk to. Even though he was one of his closest friends. He was also the one crushing his dreams.

_And it just really hit me_

Like a fist in his stomach, a hand around his throat, a rock on his chest.

_That I quite miss home_

Missing familiarity and stability. Even if it has been a while since he had last lived with his family. Graduated with the LDLC academy. But he’s eighteen. Not nearly old enough to be independent, no matter how much he tried to convince himself he could live on his own. Because right now, the support he was craving was the one he couldn’t have.

He would just have to confide his doubts to the cold and silent night, alongside his tears and the emotions swirling around.


End file.
